Got this weird itch to dig up where my footy club landed back in 2017. You know how it is, random late-night thought just pops into your head. Figured I’d actually look it up properly this time, not just guess.
First thing I did was fire up the old laptop. Battery was almost dead – typical. Plugged it in while muttering about how everything needs charging these days. Opened up a browser, stared blankly at the search bar for a solid minute trying to remember the exact league name. Typed something like “AFL 2017 ladder results,” hoping for the best. Hit enter.
The Online Hunt
Found a bunch of sites claiming to have old footy data. Clicked the first one – looked dodgy with all those pop-up ads. Closed it fast. Second site seemed legit, one of those big sports stats archives. Scrolled down forever, page loading slow as anything. Finally spotted the 2017 season section. Clicked on it like I was defusing a bomb.
Season review popped up. Big block of text about who won the flag, who choked… skipped all that noise. My eyes scanned for the final standings table. Found it crammed down below. Started reading from the top down: “1. Adelaide… 2. Geelong…” Kept going down, down, down. Heart sank a little lower with each team name that wasn’t mine.
The Moment of Truth… Mostly
Then I saw them. Stuck right there in 12th spot. Melbourne. My Demons. Just… twelfth. Felt like such a gut punch, even though I knew deep down 2017 wasn’t exactly our glory year. Scrolled back up to double-check the win-loss column. Yep. 12 wins, 10 losses. Smack in the middle of mediocrity land. Forgot how thoroughly average that season really was.
Right after seeing that, something funny happened. My old tabby cat, Kevin, decided it was prime time to jump onto the keyboard. Sent the browser flying sideways and spilled my lukewarm coffee all over the desk. Had to scramble for tissues while yelling “Kevin! Off!”, trying to save the keyboard. Coffee went everywhere. Totally derailed my deep dive into 2017 nostalgia.
Not Finished Yet
After cleaning up the coffee puddle (mostly), and shooing Kevin away for good, I remembered I wanted to save the table. Highlighted the standings, copied it, and pasted it into a spreadsheet. Named the file “2017 Mediocrity” – felt fitting. Planned to maybe add some notes later about why we finished there, but honestly? The coffee incident and seeing the “12” next to Melbourne just killed my mood.
Couldn’t shake the feeling the stupid cat somehow knew what I’d just discovered and chose that exact moment to sabotage me. Maybe saving me from myself? Probably just wanted attention. Typical Kevin. My club finished twelfth back then. Twelfth. Still stings a bit seeing it written down. And my keyboard still smells like cheap coffee.
